


Love You Like Grand

by kaghani



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Engagement, F/F, Korrasami Anniversary, Korrasami is Canon, Literally everyone makes an appearance or is mentioned don't even worry, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaghani/pseuds/kaghani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korra and her friends have been up to something, and today, Asami's about to find out what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. part I

**Author's Note:**

> This is my offering for the anniversary of canon!Korrasami's anniversary! (Whee!!!)
> 
> This fic took me ages, and it grew into quite the monster - before you begin, just a few things: I broke it into two parts, because the first part switches POV a lot. This is because it was also the anniversary of the end of LoK, and I wanted to celebrate that by having everyone make an appearance (I promise there's Korrasami in there, definitely in there). The second part is a little bit different. 
> 
> Finally, I advise listening to this (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlF74VhoQKY) while reading, if that's your thing. I had it on repeat while writing, and I think it really sets the mood :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this and die of fluff reading the way I did while writing!! xx

Mako eases the door shut behind him, startling at the sound of the tinkling little bell at the top. He steels himself against the sudden, brusque wave of springy air and light fragrance.

“Good morning, sir,” Mako greets the flower-shopkeeper across the room with a slight bow and what he hopes is a pleasant smile. It’s probably tentative and awkward. “There’s an...occasion this evening, and my friend would like me to pick up her flowers. I have a receipt.” He reaches into his pocket and flourishes the little slip of paper he’d been guarding with life and limb. 

“I see,” says the old man, and beckons him in. “Step in here, son.”

Mako navigates through the bins of bouquets and the elegant displays. He places the receipt in the shopkeeper’s palm. The man’s eyes widen and he flashes a knowing look at Mako, seemingly amused and a little flustered. It’s stupid – Korra has lots of friends these days. The guy should just take it easy. “Well, why didn’t you say you were here for the Avatar’s order?” He peers over Mako’s shoulder over at the street. “What kind of Sato-mobile did you bring?”

“It’s a semi-trailer. I parked it out back, where you do the loading. Un...less...I – Korra told me to – ”

“Naw, good, good,” he scratches his chin. “That’s good. Well, you’ll be here a while, you know.”

Mako grins. “I’ve got all morning, sir.”

It’s nearly noon by the time Mako, the shopkeeper – Ran, he tells Mako – and his assistants load Korra’s ridiculous order of ridiculous flowers into the truck. They run a final set of eyes over it.

“Strange color scheme,” Ran comments. “Lovely, and fitting I suppose. But strange.”

Mako smiles. “Yeah.”

 _I’m trying to keep with our theme, Mako_ , Korra’d said, smiling sheepishly and tugging at the new pendant against her throat for emphasis.

“Well, Mr. Mako. Good doing business.” He extends his hand for Mako to shake as his assistants pull the shutter closed. 

“Thank you, Mr. Ran.”

It hits Mako that he’s getting flowers for his ex to give to his other ex on the drive to Air Temple Island. He shakes his head and grunts. It’s a train of thought that tends to take him weird places. Focusing on the now, the _happy_ now, is a lot easier.

 

* * *

 

“All right, cadets!” Meelo’s voice is being spectacularly gross these days. How is he supposed to assert his dominance if it creaks and squeaks like he’s some kind of rodent? Being eleven is the _worst._ Still, he dutifully bellows, “This is MEELO, your commanding officer! Today is the day! This is what you’ve been training for! This is what you LIVE FOR!”

He gives his old staff a spin and drives it into the ground like a stake. “I want all of you to be your best! I want everyone to see your glory! We didn’t train, and sweat, and  _suffer_ , to be less than excellent today! Am I understOOOOOD?”

A single, solitary chirp of a winged lemur breaks the dead-silence that follows. Naga dips her head and makes a whimpering noise. Pabu, to his credit, flinches only once before staring straight ahead like all the others. 

And Ikki, that complete  _nuisance_ , claps insolently. “Wowwww....” 

On the stairs next to her, Bolin and Opal sit, trading nervous looks before giving Meelo an awkward, encouraging smile. 

 _I’ll show them_ , he thinks. 

“I think these doubters need a demonstration!” Meelo shouts to his troops, “What do you say we give these people a little taste of Meelo and his Spectacul-Aires?”

* * *

 

“Tenzin, if we see another piece of lemur poop laying around, we are all going to go crazy around here.” Pema bristles against the sound of a hundred wings beating simultaneously. She waits for it to pass before dropping another batch of dough into the frying pan. 

“No, dad, we’re going to go _completely insane_ ,” Jinora asserts. She hands Pema another tray of divided sweet-and-spice coated morsels.

Opal, Jinora, and Kai had rounded up some bison and some of the younger airbenders for the occasion. They’ve come back to the island for last minute preparations and tidying up. The poor acolytes had to deal with lemur droppings by themselves all week.

Tenzin sighs and brushes a hand over his eyebrows, like he’s been the one sweating over the stove all day instead of idling next to his wife. “I don’t want to discourage this hobby. Meelo’s very excited about doing this for Korra.”

“Tenzin, I’m not trying to discourage him!” Her poor husband could be so dense. She taps the skimmer free of hot oil and uses it to point at him. “I don’t mean anything other than _you better clean up after what was your idea in the first place_. At least on the last day.”

That seemed to get through to him, at last. Tenzin’s back straightens, and his eyebrows arch all the way to where his hairline would have been, if he had one. “Oh. I see. That’s fair.” He turns on his heel just as Pema catches his arm.

“You big baby.” She reaches up to kiss his cheek and his entire being relaxes. Pema will never tire of this calming effect she has on Tenzin.

Tenzin holds her by the shoulders, leans down, and presses a soft kiss against her lips, and their eldest makes a gagging noise.

If Pema sticks her tongue out at Jinora, she maintains that moms can be immature at their immature kids sometimes. It’s fair.

* * *

 

Kya’s shout gets muffled by the chilly salt water that runs in her mouth as she gets knocked off the back of the elephant-koi. _Again_. She’s got just about enough energy to make a small platform out of ice to hold onto.

Bumi, that jerk, cackles and rides insultingly graceful circles around her. Why is this so hard? She’s a waterbender, for goodness’ sake!

“Bumi! If I ever make it to dry land I am going to kill you!”

Bumi laughs harder and swoops in, and the next thing she knows, she’s soaked through and through like a drowned rat and shivering, sitting against the enormous dorsal fin. A gust of air Bumi sends at her chills her to the bones, but her clothes and hair sit stiff and dry over her body in just a second.

Her brother stands in front of her, taking the dorsal fin with both hands. There’s not a single difference between what he’s doing and what she’d done!

“I wish we picked up the band instead,” Kya grumps pettily.

Her brother smiles down in sympathy, and it absolutely grates on her ego as much as it’s comforted her for the past fifty years or so. “It was hard for me, too. But _sometimes_ , Tenzin’s a great teacher!”

With that, he lets out some kind of howl, tugs at the fin, and Kya has to reach behind herself to grab on so she won’t get flung off.

Maybe she will take Tenzin up on that offer to teach her how to ride elephant-koi.

“Besides!” Bumi shouts, “I need you to waterbend for the show!” He gestures at the school of flying fish-dolphins they’d been chasing down, trying to herd them into some sort of formation with one flutist and one waterbender…and then lead them back to Republic City, where Korra’s counting on them…

“Bumi,” Kya says, gingerly inching herself to a decent stance to waterbend from, “is this really going to work?”

“Of COURSE it’ll work. Did I tell you about that time when I took down an entire fleet of anti-White Lotus militants with just a school of flying-fish dolphins, a flute, and a block of cheese?”

“ _Yes_ , Bumi –”

“A dense, ominous fog settled in over my crew one morning when we were patrolling the shores of the eastern Earth Kingdom. I bravely offered to scout the waters before us, breakfast still in hand...”

Kya groans, but she’ll never admit how empowering Bumi’s blunt, enterprising attitude can really be. They just might be able to pull this off.

* * *

 

Not a lot of cars come back by this alley where they rehearse, in Rhonna’s flat. There’s no chance Tahno would have missed this ride. Not. A. Chance.

“Tahno, I’m serious,” Korra’d reminded him over the phone the night before. “This isn’t one of your radio station gigs where they can fill in your no-show butt with anyone else. I need to be able to count on you!”

“Are you trying to hire me or insult me, Uh-vatar?”

“Don’t be late!”

“Don’t be a square,” Tahno’d easily dismissed. “I’ll play your little love show. You owe me 20 yuans per hour.”

Rhonna’s stupid wombat-cuckoo clock strikes 3. Where the hell is their ride?

“This is _sooo_ not my fault.” Tahno props a leg up on his trombone case and rocks it back and forth – could that be the sound of a motor around the corner?

It comes to a stop in front of Rhonna’s apartment building in the most squalid corner of Republic City. Tahno’s got a speech prepared about payment, but it gets swallowed up in the choking sound he makes. It’s a police car. The beacons are off and there’s no alarm blaring, but a cop car in this neighborhood could only mean trouble.

 _Great_. Gone are the days when Tahno’s scene was the ritzy-glitzy parts of town.

Rhonna, Sareda, and Ing step out behind him and let out a collective “what?”

Before anyone can react any further, Republic City’s Chief of Police steps out of the driver’s seat.

“Tahno, what’s going on?” Sareda whispers urgently.

“Not much time to explain,” Chief Beifong announces, standing before them with her hands on her hips, “But your original ride bailed. I’m your ride to the venue, now. Consider it a police escort. Where’s the cargo?”

Wordlessly, the four of them point to their equipment lying in the corner of the entryway. With a whip of her cables, Chief Beifong lashes together the equipment. The next second, she’s got it suspended in the air and draws up the trunk door to haul everything in. She pauses and gives them a look. “I don’t know who’s paying you, but if you don’t show I’m sure they won’t. This car leaves in fifteen seconds.”

All suspicion and second guessing evaporates. They trip over each other’s limbs to comply.

“This is a little cozy,” Ing comments, wedged in between Tahno’s lap and Rhonna. Tahno’s losing circulation to his legs already.

“Not another peep till we’re there,” says Chief Beifong, pulling them out of the street.

If this was a few years ago, Tahno might have impertinently _peep-peep-peep_ ed a tune in his flat voice. Today, he just sighs and turns his head so he’s not eating Ing’s puffy hair. He doesn’t get paid enough to do these things.

* * *

 

“1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 5, platypus-bear, 6, 7, Zhu Li,” Varrick absently repeats for the hundredth time, reading through the scrawl of his own notes. It’s quite the effort, especially for himself.

He’s been pacing around with the remote, drawing it out of Zhu Li’s reach for the past five minutes. Unknowingly, of course – Varrik’s lost in thought, and Zhu Li wants the remote, but she hates breaking his flow of concentration when he’s like this. He does it again when she tries to grab for it, this time, whirling around and facing her. He’s got the remote in the hand behind his back. “You better say the sequence back to me one more time, Zhu Li. It’s a matter of providence.”

Varrik’s face is an inch from hers, his wild eyes reflect all one million of his racing thoughts. Zhu Li knows his mind is the farthest thing from processing what she’s about to do. She closes the distance between them and lays a nice, big smooch on him before he starts beating his gums about something else. When she breaks off, Zhu Li relishes in the flabbergasted look on his face. “1, 1, 2, 2, 3, 4, 6, 5, platypus-bear, 6, 7,” she whispers, dangling the remote in front of him. His eyes refocus and narrow, and she smirks in response. “And don’t tell me how to do the thing, darling.”

* * *

 

Korra’s navigator and flight instructor’s name is Yi.

She’s a retired flight officer and a former leader of the URN Navy’s recon squadron, and she’s one of General Iroh’s closest friends.

Yi’s nice, alright, and patient. And even after weeks and weeks of practice, Korra thinks it’s a great comfort to have a retired spy-pilot for a navigator. Korra just wishes Yi was a bit more empathetic.

The drone of the engine is calming, even though Yi’d said it’s dangerous to get focused on the hum. In the first few months, it’s the hypnotic murmur that helped her through fears of operating airborne machinery. It’d helped ease Korra into a meditative state, which generally works better for her than it does for most people. _Avatar stuff_ , Korra supposes.

Of course, the thought of Asami, and how pleased she’d be at Korra’s efforts had definitely kept her going. Every second had been a fight to not just airbend at the wings (not that Korra would have known exactly how to make that work).

“Please check all your signals and indicators, Avatar.”

“Please, just Korra’s fine, thank you.” She offers Yi a tentative smile, who hesitates a second before returning one with half the enthusiasm. Yi’s going to continue calling her ‘Avatar’, of course – no matter how many times Korra awkwardly reminds her. She doesn’t want to be too insistent, because she is learning how to _fly an airplane_ from one of the best pilots in the world.

Because _the best_ had been unavailable by virtue of not being in the know of Korra’s lessons.

That had been the other happy effect of having someone as stoic as Yi for a flight instructor; Yi took no interest in Korra’s purpose or in spreading word of the purpose, or even reacting to the fact that there was a purpose. Korra’d even waited to tell her friends and family about her plans until three weeks ago, when serendipity played its part, and Asami’d presented to Korra a beautiful, hand-crafted betrothal pendant of her own gear emblem against the crescent moon and waves of the Water Tribes.

If Bolin had a random emotional spasm from anticipation, Asami would assume it’s because she and Korra were engaged and (hopefully) wouldn’t suspect greater plans.

But Yi was reliably apathetic to the whole thing – never asking to meet Asami Sato or anything like that.

Korra runs through the list, tightens the straps on the goggles and ear muffs, and flexes her shoulders and hands.

Korra’s practiced this a few hundreds of times. She can do this. Through her high-collared suit, she grips the betrothal pendant at her throat for a moment, smiling to herself.

 “Ready when you are.”

“Right,” Korra says. “Ready!”

There’s a second before Yi speaks up. “I think this is really sweet of you, Avatar Korra.”

Korra blinks. Had Yi actually called her by name? And was she expressing appreciation for sentimentality?

A day of miracles! This is a good sign, Korra thinks.

She turns around. “Thanks! And thank you so much for helping me.”

In another few minutes, they’re looking down at the clouds over the mountain-pass outside of Republic City.

Korra hovers, maintains altitude, gently pulls back on the throttle, gently releases it…

Easy does it. Just like she’d been practicing. No bells and whistles, no fancy tricks. Just the basics. Asami’s going to be so happy!

A static squawk, Ikki’s unchanged voice of nine years, carries to Korra’s ears through the radio, and she knows what Yi’s going to tell her before she says it: “Good to go, Avatar! Remember, your cue is lemurs making a figure 8!”

Korra grins. “Let’s do this!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second part!

Asami’s got an ache in her ribs from sitting in her chair and leaning over her desk all week. In the last hour, she’s practically staring at the clock, waiting the hour hand to touch the five mark. And when it does, Asami pushes out of her chair, snaps on her capelet, and moves through the hallway with an iron resolve to politely relegate all questions and issues to the next week. Thankfully, every interaction is some form of “have a good weekend, Miss Sato”.

The outdoors is like a blessing: cool and crisp, but still warm enough to skip a jacket. It’s a wonderful evening to spend on Air Temple Island, and _then_ …

And then Asami can’t wait to have Korra all to herself for the weekend.

Her _fiancée_. Has it already been three weeks since their camping trip with Korra’s parents in the South Pole? It feels like just yesterday, Asami’d been brushing Korra’s hair to the front to fasten the betrothal necklace with a snap-button, before nuzzling into the warm nape of her neck. Asami could still smell the scent of the evergreens, the pine-smoke of the early-morning campfire just outside their tent, across from where Tonraq and Senna still slept; Asami’d strangely thought, in that moment, of the way Tonraq’s chest had rumbled with laughter against her ear a few nights before, when he’d insisted that he couldn’t wait for Asami to officially become a part of their family. He’d bought her a few tankards of strange, salty pale ale, an old Water Tribe tradition that nearly made Asami sick the next morning.

Asami will never, ever forget the way the fire had flickered in Korra’s eyes, shining and teary with happiness _because of Asami_.

“Yes,” Korra’d whispered, voice still thick with sleep, mouth pressed delightfully warm against the sensitive skin under Asami’s ear. “Of course I’ll marry you, Asami.”

It’s a memory that’s seared itself into the recesses of Asami’s conscious. She’d known Korra was in this for the long haul because Korra is _Korra_ , the most beautiful person to ever exist. Korra makes sure Asami knows how much she loves her each day.

Still, after these past four years of being with Korra, watching her blink crustiness from her eyes in the morning, admiring the drape of Korra’s body all over the furniture on an exhausting day, appreciating the flex of Korra’s biceps over _their_ sink of undone dishes, it had been the most thrilling thing to hear that Korra’d wanted this for the rest of her life, too. That having this forever would make Korra as happy as it made Asami.

 

* * *

 

“Where to, Miss?” the cab driver asks after Asami’d managed to hail him. She avoids driving to work on the days when she and Korra have plans afterward. Driving seems like such a chore late at night, when she’d rather be tucked into Korra’s side in the back of a cab.

“Just near the harbor, please. I need to take a ferry to Air Temple Island.” Asami wonders in retrospect if she should have shared that.

The ferry queue, and the ferry, even, is unusually slow tonight. These days, on Friday evenings, Air Temple Island attracts the kind of crowd that makes Asami selfishly grateful that her home isn’t a hub for a reborn and repurposed culture.

Neither the ticket vendor nor the crew member who tears off a stub mentions anything, simply wishing Asami a pleasant journey.

She knows Korra’s been up to something; Korra was never very good at keeping secrets. Asami doesn’t like to dwell and theorize because if she guesses it, she might not be able to act appropriately surprised – Asami never said she was any good at keeping secrets, either, especially from Korra. It’s an effort to not hurt Korra’s feelings, and the motivation makes the effort a lot easier.

So in lieu of tying some of her own hair over her eyes like a blindfold (or something), to distract herself, Asami asks to use the crew’s bathroom under pretense of digestive emergency. They step aside and show her the way with great haste.

It’s surprisingly neat inside. Asami takes her time in there, sprucing up the matte eye-shadow with a little sparkle, giving her lashes another curl, touching up her lipstick.

The foghorn blares way too early. Could it have been more than a few minutes?

Asami avoids a wire on the ground on the way to the main deck, making a mental note to remind the crew of the fire hazard later.

There’s…no crew up on the decks. Was it this foggy ten minutes ago? Ten feet in front of her, all Asami can see is the purple-orange glow of the sunset through a mist.

Asami fishes her glove out of her bag before setting it on the deck. Just precaution; she generally feels better when it’s on. Before she can adjust the little lever inside the glove, she flinches at a loud, raucous noise, like feedback screech from a microphone.

“Good – _shhhh!_ _No!_ – Good evening, Asami!” _Ikki?_

“Our dear Miss Sato,” Bolin’s voice multiplies in echoes through the bay, “relax, take a load off, and enjoy our show!”

Ikki’s high pitched squeak is back on again. “Tonight is going to be all about you!”

“Courtesy of,” Bolin says, “your beloved Avatar Korra.”

* * *

Asami feels sort of pathetic – she’s definitely blushing, she feels a grin splitting her face in half, and her head whips involuntarily from side to side and all around her, searching for a face – she appreciates this, sure, but where is Korra? Where is anything?

A festive flute melody starts playing from somewhere – it’s not coming from the echoing speakers. Each note feeds off the next, building in a crescendo, and suddenly, through the fog, Opal and Kai appear over the edge of the deck, riding a bison.

“Care for a lift, Miss Sato?” Kai propels himself to the back of the bison, one foot on its back and one on the railing. He’s got a hand out. His handsome features glow around the beam of his smile.

“Thanks,” Asami says instinctively, but…? What to even ask? Would it be alright to ask what’s going on?

Asami’s making her way to the bison, when Opal meets her eyes and smiles sympathetically. “Don’t worry, Asami. You’re going to love this! Just trust us.”

Asami breathes a little easy at that. It’s hard to not take Opal’s smiley, sweet word – not that Asami expects any kind of surprises other than pleasant ones, if Korra has anything to do with it. Asami’s just glad to be given instruction. She can’t bear to be thought of as presumptuous if she goes around messing up any grand plans.

Kai snatches his hand back just as Asami reaches for it. “Uh…you mind putting that away?”

Asami looks down at her gloved hand. “I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it! Just, yep…”

* * *

The glove is off, and Asami’s on the saddle of the bison by herself. A thoughtful plate of sweet buns with hearts on them sits next to her, reminding her of her last meal hours ago – and she wonders, just how elaborate could this be, really? A cyclone brings her purse up, and Asami calls out a garbled thanks to the front around a mouthful of pastry. The fog is a little less dense where they ride low, near the water. A jazzy orchestra joins in with the flute in a lazy, steady harmony.

“We begin our story – at the beginning,” Bolin’s voice announces, and Asami has a feeling this is going to be very elaborate, indeed, and very cheesy. Not that she minds cheesy one bit.

“And at the beginning of this _love_ story,” Ikki joins in (making heat bloom under Asami’s cheeks), “one of our heroines was talking her father out of University plans, while the other just talked her trainers into letting her come to Republic City.”

“A wonderful stroke of fate, indeed, when rebelliousness kept Miss Sato in Republic City and brought the Avatar here.” Bolin’s voice quiets dramatically. “And it was a common – _friend_ – who’d courted Miss Sato first.”

Oh, Bolin. Asami needs a moment to rest her forehead in her hand, hopes ardently that it would be the last mention of… _that._

The bison approaches Air Temple Island, and then veers away to make a wide circle around the perimeter. It takes Asami a second to realize that the blue and red specks are…flowers? Yes, blue and red flowers. They’re arranged in little bunches on the rocky shores of the island and strung around the raised rocks in garlands. It’s so intricate and beautiful – someone must have spent a lot of time on this.

This whole thing, in fact: the fog, the food, the speech, the music synced with the show, the decoration. Asami can’t even believe the effort. A bubbly feeling rises in her chest. _Korra_ , she thinks fondly.

“Their meeting was rocky, and maybe judgments were getting in the way,” Ikki chirps, “But they quickly learned to respect each other. Korra was impressed with Asami’s steady moral compass and nurturing, thoughtful ways. Asami admired the Avatar’s courage and selflessness.”

They’d been flying so close to the water, nearly skimming the surface. The flute’s shrill tune comes to an end, highlighting the melody of the erhu. Asami’s reflection begins to ripple in the water.

Bolin takes up the thread. “There were obstacles, yes there were. Korra’s trials were many and harrowing, and Asami had to grow up quickly these past years, shouldering decades’ worth of responsibility and Future Industries’ integrity.”

“But their friendship made them stronger! They inspired one another to overcome hardships and be the best they can. Before they even realized, they’d fallen for each other.” Ikki’s voice is laced with a hopeless romance quality, and if Asami thought she’d been blushing and smiling before, her cheeks burn and hurt from grinning so hard.

There’s a sudden gust of air and a loud splash from behind them. Asami cranes her neck to have a look, but then she catches a movement in her periphery.

* * *

Asami gasps; a dozen or so flying fish-dolphins jump in and out of the water, silhouetted against that last segment of the sun, making gentle splashes and sometimes, graceful flips. A little giggle escapes her throat at the sight.

The flute takes up a melody again, much closer this time, and Spirits, Asami is not prepared for this; a massive elephant-koi eclipses the setting sun and moves ahead of it. If she squints, Asami can see Kya gripping it by the dorsal fin, her other arm flexed to bend the water around the flying fish-dolphins. Dangling off her elbow is Bumi, arm hooked around Kya’s so he can play on his flute and stomp around on the poor koi’s back.

_How long had they been planning this?_

The music mellows, and the fish flatten and draw up their pink fins until they resemble glider-wings, not unlike those on the Air Nation wingsuits. Kya summons a short wave that has them closing in on the bison, swerving toward Air Temple Island until they’re gliding in a backwards skein around the back of the bison.

Asami’s so delighted by this, so taken with the drag-cutting way they streamline their bodies and angle their wings upwards, she doesn’t notice Kya’s strangled voice calling her name until she and Bumi ride much closer.

“’Sami!” Kya calls with a strained smile. “Hop on!”

“What?” Asami asks. Onto the koi? The flying fish-dolphins?

The empty space next to her suddenly conjures up Opal. “Here, take my hand.”

* * *

Opal actually holds her by the wrist, so Asami grabs onto Opal’s. She summons a sphere of air, skillfully maneuvering the both of them off the bison and onto the back of a flying fish-dolphin. It makes a bleating noise and shivers a little, but keeps on. Asami needs to hold onto Opal with both hands as she settles onto its slick back. She regrets not having worn pants a little bit – but really, how would she have known? – She can’t very well sit astride its back, letting her legs dangle to one side, instead.

“Need me to stay?” Opal asks. She’s peering at Asami’s face, and Asami wonders how helpless and bungling she’s making herself look right now.

“Thanks,” Asami says, letting go of Opal to shakily pat her wrist. “I should be fine.”

“You’re sure?”

 _Not really_.

“Sure!” Asami shrugs and finds a convincing smile for her. At least, convincing enough for Opal to grin back and take off, joining Kai and getting the bison out of there.

“We’ve got you, ‘Sami!” Kya shouts.

* * *

Asami takes a little bit adjusting to find a comfortable position. But it’s a lovely, exhilarating experience, riding the flying fish-dolphin. This close to the water, it’s much different than riding the bison or the ferry. The gentle spray of the water is so close, the smell of the brine is refreshing. From here, the sun looks like a big orange ball that she could ride into. It feels like she’s running across the water, and spares a brief moment of envy for benders who can actually do this when they want.

But it’s stupid, because look what they’d arranged for her, all the effort Korra and her friends had gone through to make Asami feel special.

Asami’s flying fish-dolphin stays in the center of the backwards V-formation, and it’s a perspective of the world so surreal, and the _colors_ …

It splashes back into the water twice, and Asami breaks out into the surface sopping wet and laughing both times. She feels like she’s twelve again, giddy and alive, taking her new speedboat for a spin. Her father’s just behind her, jolly and , and it’s one of those rare, extraordinarily happy memories after her mother’s death.

Asami itches for her notebook, for her camera, for portable mover-recording equipment – she _needs_ to immortalize this experience somehow.

Kya and Bumi guide them around Avatar Aang’s memorial, back into the bay, until the sun’s nearly disappeared from the horizon and Asami’s eyes gather with happy tears.

 “Asami,” Bolin says in his gentlest voice, “a few weeks ago, you asked Korra for her hand in matrimony.”

“She said yes, of course, but Korra just had to show you she meant it!”

Just as Ikki finishes speaking, a faint shrill of a whistle echoes through the bay. Opal and Kai are at her side again, riding the bison.

“Hi, again,” Kai says.

* * *

Asami needs to thank Kya and Bumi. She’ll just have do something special for them later.

No sooner does Kai help her up on the saddle again (and thoughtfully help her dry off with a gust of air) does the entire world population of winged lemurs take off from Air Temple Island, Meelo and his sister’s bison on their tail.

Each shrieking blow of the whistle is accompanied by a guiding current of air, Meelo’s face adorably scrunched up and stern with concentration. They make a wide ellipse around Air Temple Island, and when they get close the next time, Opal and Kai pull the reins sharply and fly in line with them.

* * *

To be honest, Asami is pretty scared of droppings. When she’d observed winged lemurs for helping Tenzin design a wingsuit, Asami had to have her Sato-mobile washed. Maybe Opal and Kai seem to sense that (how is this whole thing so in sync anyway?) and take the bison higher above the lemurs. It’s impressive from up here, an amazing sight. Meelo’s got them well trained – each of his commands has his little army banking left, right, up, in rows of two’s and three’s. Asami’ll have to find a way to thank the little guy.

And everyone else, honestly. Asami thought Korra’d planned a surprise, but…this was just beyond anything Asami could have ever imagined.

Opal and Kai reign the bison back for a minute, and in a stunning display, the lemurs follow Meelo up in a helix formation, fly up into the clouds, and swing back over Air Temple Island to make an infinity sign in the air, and then disappear into the greenery down on Air Temple Island.

Asami claps until her hands hurt, hopes Meelo can hear her.

“That was Meelo and his Spectacul-Aires, ladies and gentlefolk!” Bolin announces, and Asami thinks she hears everyone clapping on Air Temple Island, too.

“Now, for our grand finale, please look to the skies!”

Asami hears an airplane motor. Korra’s goggles in her closet instead of in the garage, the need for assistance in the western Earth Republic, Korra’s lingering stares at Asami’s old biplane…it all starts to make sense.

* * *

Korra makes a wide arc around them. Nothing fancy or flashy. But Asami’s holding her breath because she doesn’t want to cry.

The next pass she makes, a banner unravels at the end, and Asami chokes out something between a laugh and a sob.

 _I’ll marry you if you marry me!_ It reads.

* * *

The sky is purple-blue by the time Opal, Kai and Asami land near the docks. She must look emotional enough, because they avoid speaking to her, instead smiling and gesturing at the lantern-lined stairs up to the temple.

Jinora’s ghostly-green spirit form waits for her by the stairway. “Sorry, but I have to keep you here for a sec,” she says with a sheepish grin.

Asami manages a nod, and then giggles at her own speechlessness.

Jinora smiles back and then holds a finger up, vanishing for about three seconds before re-appearing. _So that’s how they managed to stay so in sync!_

“You’re good to go, now.” Jinora gestures up the path, and Asami nearly tries to hug her. Instead, she whispers a thanks, and heads up a hand over her mouth to contain her breathing.

* * *

_Korra_.

There she is, standing at the center of the courtyard in front of every one of their friends. She’s wearing a black flight suit, a black helmet tucked in the crook of her arm, and goggles propped on her hairline.

She’s the most beautiful thing in the history of the world, and Asami loves this woman to pieces.

“Hey.” Korra smiles that crooked little smile at her, and that’s it. The floodgates open, and Asami runs forward, trusting Korra to catch her if her swimmy vision guides her face straight into the ground.

But the next thing Asami knows, she’s sobbing grossly in Korra’s hair, because Korra’s good to her, _so_ good to her, and no one in the world has ever made Asami feel that special before.

Korra’s arms are tight around Asami’s waist. “I love you,” she mumbles against Asami’s neck.

“I love you,” Asami says, voice warbled, and goodness, does she ever love her. “I love you, I love you…”

Korra holds her until she gets some kind of control over her breathing.

“I have something for you.”

I response, Asami gives her one last squeeze before drawing back, wiping her hands over her eyes and pulling them back, checking for any runny makeup. She’s good. “Something else?”

Like she’s reaching for some money or something, Korra sticks a hand into her pants pocket and pulls out a ring – a plain, narrow band without any gems. Asami can make out an engraving.

“Asami,” Korra says, face radiant and glowing, “We’ve been through a lot, together and apart. I’m sure you know I’m just crazy about you. I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’re willing to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Asami makes a small squeak.

Korra chuckles, understanding Asami’s little quirks by now like her own. “I guess this is pretty redundant, huh?” She tugs at her betrothal pendant, and Asami laughs and nods. In lieu of responding, she extends her left hand.

Korra’s cooked grin softens and her eyes go warm. She slips the ring onto her finger.

Asami's dimly aware of the clapping and the cheering; she’s too busy studying the metal – some sort of iron alloy? Some parts are yellower than others.

And the _design_ – a crescent moon watches over waves, half of Asami's gear emblem in the back like a rising sun. It complements Korra's pendant so perfectly. For all Korra claims to not be tasteful, Asami thinks she’s got a great eye for artistry.

Something in the engraving seemed to have returned Asami's voice to her. "Did you...make this?"

Korra steps in closer, the both of them crowding over the new glittering metal on Asami’s hand. "Yeah. I made it in Zaofu with Su. It's a meteor called Pallasite."

“Pallasite! On my finger! Korra…”

“Because my girlfriend is out of this world," Korra says, so softly and tenderly, like it isn’t some cheesy flirty line.

Asami throws her head back to laugh, and then grabs Korra by the face to kiss her. This time, she notices the whooping and makes it a quick one. “I think,” Asami says, resting her left hand over her right like she’s a hand model, “this makes me your fiancée, Korra.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Korra loops an arm around Asami’s waist.

“I beat you to it, though,” Asami touches the betrothal pendant. “Korra, thank you.”

Korra bumps her with her hip. “Anything for you. Besides, I had a lot of help.” She gestures at everyone standing around them. “Thank you all, so much. You helped me make this more special for Asami than I could have imagined. I promise extra VIP treatment at the wedding for all of you.”

A wave of laughter passes through the crowd, and even after having proposed to Korra a few weeks back, even after today, Asami finds herself ducking her head shyly at the mention of ‘wedding’.

Asami’s sure she should say something, something poised and full of gratitude and humble, like Korra just did. But at that moment, Pema rushes forward and takes Asami by the hand, and the Pema-Asami-Korra train makes its way through the crowd to a table full of _food_. Asami can’t resist – once Pema’s asked Asami and Korra to eat until they can’t move, she leans down and pulls her into a hug.

* * *

The band keeps a jazzy tune saturating through the atmosphere of the party. The kids should be exhausted by now, what with the exertion of preparation and the main event, but they keep dragging themselves around, trying to find new ways to amuse themselves.

Asami may not be as tactful with large crowds as Korra is, but lucky for her, everyone comes up to congratulate her. She takes the opportunity to thank everyone individually. She explains to Kya and Bumi how much she appreciated their efforts.

She even manages to somehow promise Meelo a habitat-and-training grounds for his lemurs. Who knows how long he’ll even be into this hobby?

“You were so surprised,” Bolin practically shouts in her ear, one arm slung over Asami’s shoulder, the other looped in Opal’s arm. He frees both of them to spread them wide. “You should have seen yourself, Asami!”

Asami chuckles, patting him on the head. “I was very impressed by your part. Very dramatic.”

“Bolin had been practicing all day and night,” Opal says, squeezing Bolin’s bicep.

Bolin gives Opal a fond look that makes Asami a little bit uncomfortable for a moment. Until he speaks, of course. “Opal’s been cleaning lemur droppings all these weeks.”

He gets himself a smack in the arm for that.

Later that night, she’s with Korra, when Mako strolls up to them.

“Congratulations, guys.”

“Thanks for picking up the flowers, Mako,” Korra says, hugging him with one arm. “It’s beautiful, what you’ve done with them.”

 _What_?

“Mako, you did this?” Asami runs her fingers over a loosely strung garland that wraps around the pillar she’s leaning on.

He shrugs, but a little smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. There were so many, and I wasn’t sure what Korra wanted me to do with them. I got sort of carried away. Not half-bad, huh?”

Asami takes a sip of her wine. “I think you should think about a career in interior design, once you get bored with law enforcement.”

Ikki runs up to them. “It’s time, it’s time!”

“Time for what?” Asami asks Korra. They’re all making their way to the shelf of rock in the western-most part of Air Temple Island.

“You’ll see!”

* * *

Fireworks. And not just any fireworks – grand and massive and full of starbursts, waterfalls, rockets. It’s pyrotechnics raised to the order of Varrick with a Zhu Li multiplied by “do the thing”.

The middle of the display is Asami’s favorite: the floating little stars form the shape of a heart, and Korra and Asami’s initials are inside.

By the end of the show, though, Asami’s watching the sparks reflected golden in Korra’s blue eyes. Of course, it doesn’t take Korra long to notice. She looks up and smiles at Asami, sliding her hand up and down Asami’s spine.

“Grand enough for you?” Korra says, teasing.

Asami kisses her forehead. “You’re the grandest thing in the world, Korra.”

A minute later, she adds: “But if you’re going to fly a plane next time, will you please take me with you? You did a great job, sweetie, but it would just make me feel better.”

Korra laughs. “Not a problem. It would make me feel better, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you are so inclined, and have feedback for me on the way I wrote Asami, I would dig that!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate all feedback!!
> 
> Happy Korrasami <3<3<3


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